20 Apr 2011

No, I haven't just become a character from a soap opera, New York-based teen drama or a truly awful Disney Channel show. We're renovating our home and since the work has involved removing our one and only toilet and installing some tile at our entrance that can't get stepped on until it settles, we had to move out for a few days. It was that or stay trapped in the den with a chamber pot. Try not to picture it.

We went for the cheapest hotel in the neighbourhood so Patrick could still walk to work. It's OK, but it certainly hasn't made us feel as though we're living large like Chuck Bass of Gossip Girl. Just a simple room, no bathrobes, and a tube TV that doesn't even get my blessed Food Network. Don't you feel very sorry for me and my First World Problems?

The wireless Internet in the room is also really clunky and slow, which has made working in here a little tedious and frustrating. Through a bit of trial and error - the details of which I will not go into - I discovered that the Internet actually works a little faster in the bathroom, so I've sort of made it my office. Which, when you think about it, makes me a lot less like Chuck Bass and a lot more like The Fonz.

Since we're not exactly rolling in dough, we've also avoided using room service. However, the biggest temptation for me has been the mini bar. What is it about things that are in a small fridge that make them so desirable? Little booze bottles! Cold chocolate bars! So close and yet so far away. As you can see, the price list for these things is insane:

It also happens to be one of those asshole hotel mini bars that has the sensors, so that if you remove anything from it, you automatically get billed. There goes my plan of simply cradling the vodka and chips in my arms for a while.

There is, however, a complimentary mini coffee machine in the room - so at least I've been super caffeinated this whole time.

Search for Intelligence

Who's Smashing The Keyboard?

My name is Jen and I look like that picture at all times. I enjoy appetizers as entrees, fountains choreographed to music and television shows intended for teenage girls. Oh - and I really dislike it when people spell it "Jenn"; it's practically a phobia.